Home for Christmas
by aiupenn
Summary: Kunikida is going to be gone for Christmas and Chuuya isn't sure he likes that.


The smile covers his face before Chuuya can stop it. He was so excited to see the name on his caller ID, that he couldn't have even hoped to hide it. At least he's home alone so he can evade the torment and questions of his friends. He hits 'answer' without hesitation.

"Hey there, sweetie," he nearly purrs as he flops onto the couch to study his handiwork on the tree.

"Chuuya," Doppo says on the other with what sounds like a relieved sigh.

"Something wrong?" Chuuya asks, "How was your flight?"

"No-things wrong..." Doppo replies.

Chuuya's brow furrows. "That wasn't very convincing," he says flatly.

"I, um..." Doppo seems to struggle a bit before he sighs and says into the receiver quietly, "I just missed you. I wanted to hear your voice."

Chuuya's heart does an involuntary stutter and he sucks in a breath. "Oh? Was there something in specific you wanted to hear?" he covers up how flustered he was with a soft, flirtatious voice.

"Not really," Doppo was clearly hiding his own embarrassment.

"Really?" Chuuya makes his voice saccharine sweet, "You didn't want to hear something like 'I missed you so much, lovely'?"

"Oh..." Doppo says breathlessly.

"Or 'It's only been five hours, but the whole world has stopped without you'?"

Doppo clears his throat.

"'I hope your flight was delayed'? 'Why don't we look out at the same moon at the same time'? 'Send me pictures and I'll pretend I was there with you'?" Chuuya rattles off all sorts of romantic phrases that he knows will fluster his boyfriend. "'I wish you were home for Christmas...'" This phrase pulled a Chuuya's heartstrings. He hadn't meant it to-it just seemed like a logical thing to say-but now he could feel the lump in his throat, so he knew he'd wanted to say it from the start.

Chuuya wasn't a holidays person. He didn't care much for any event that required forced party attendance and certainly not gifts. Christmas had been no exception until he and Doppo had gotten together. It was Doppo's suggestion, of course. He said "why don't we spend Christmas day together?" and that decided it. The last two Christmases they had spent together, but this year...

Chuuya swallowed around the lump and opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

"I, uh..." Doppo trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Doppo," Chuuya said, sincerely, "I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."

"Chuuya," his boyfriend said in such a sweet voice Chuuya almost melted, "It's not that. I forgot my keys."

Chuuya let out a scoff of a laugh, a little bit of relief filling his heart. "I promise I'll let you in when you get home, lovely."

Doppo was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "I'm kind of home... now."

Chuuya's phone clattered to the floor as he sprung to his feet. He got to the door in four seconds flat and swung it open. Doppo stood there, phone still to his ear and a rare, small smile on his face. Chuuya wrapped him in a hug immediately, burying his face into his boyfriend's chest. Who knew five hours could make you miss someone so much?

Doppo, predictably, stiffened a bit in Chuuya's embrace, not one for such public romantic gestures. Chuuya sure as Hell wasn't letting go. But Doppo didn't push him away, and in a moment he even returned the hug with equal affection. "I missed you, too," he said, and Chuuya believed it more than anything. A hug where others could see like this was rare.

Chuuya didn't let go for a very long moment, but neither did Doppo. It wasn't until Doppo's phone buzzed that they both separated. Doppo sighed and shook his head at whatever message. Chuuya glared at the offending phone. "Who ruined our very sweet reunion?"

Doppo turned his phone over to Chuuya.

Waste of Bandages: "Ranpos demanding every sweet in this fuckin villiage"

Me: "You're welcome."

Waste of Bandages: "I didnt say thank you"

Waste of Bandages: "You shouldnt skip out on work just to hang out with your boyfriend"

Chuuya let out a laugh. "As if he's one to talk!" he said.

Doppo shook his head and tucked his phone away. "Ranpo has a hole in his stomach, I swear. I bought him half the store before he even left."

Chuuya smiled, "I wondered how you'd convince him to switch with you."

Doppo winced, "You'll probably have one less present this year."

"Don't worry. I've got a better one," he tugged Doppo down to his height to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Doppo blushed and gently pushed him inside. He closed the door softly behind them, then looked around the room and took a deep breath, clearly happy to be home. His eyes landed on the Christmas tree and he gave Chuuya a look. "Why is only the bottom half decorated?" he asked.

Chuuya plastered on the biggest grin he could manage. "Isn't it beautiful, sweetie."

Doppo chucked, a very deep and cheerful sound. It defused Chuuya's angry, teasing mood immediately and he couldn't help but marvel for the thousandth time at how happy he was that Doppo was home. "It does," Doppo assured him, "It's fantastic, because you did it."

Chuuya looked away to hide his blush. "You're such a kiss-ass."

Doppo kissed Chuuya's cheek lightly, and he could feel Doppo's smile against his skin.

"I'm happy to be home for Christmas," Doppo said.

Chuuya went over to the tree, grabbed an ornament, and stood on his tippy toes to get it as high as he could. "You had a whole 'nother day, you know," Chuuya said, "It's only Christmas Eve. Could've gotten some work done."

Doppo came to his side and grabbed Chuuya by the waist to pull him into a sideways hug. He gingerly took the ornament from his hand and placed it on the highest branch. "I wanted to wake up next to you," Kunikida said, a little blush on his cheek.

Chuuya felt the breath woosh out of his lungs. "Oh," was all he could manage.

Kunikida bent and gave Chuuya a deep, but meaningful kiss on the lips. Chuuya felt lightheaded and speechless. "Let's get the rest of the tree decorated, shall we."

Chuuya didn't even have it in him to be mad.

* * *

Comments and critique always appreciated.


End file.
